their towns, and began to fly with their families, their goods, and
chattels, and hope rose high in the Christian camp. This honor was
reserved for the Emperor; that which no other Frankish sword could
achieve he had done by the mere shadow of his approach; he had forced
from Saladin a confession of inferiority. But he was not destined to
see the realization of his endeavors here, any more than in Europe.
His army had entered Cilicia, and was preparing to cross the rapid
mountain stream of the Seleph. On June 10, 1190, they marched slowly
across the narrow bridge, and the Emperor, impatient to get to the
front, urged his horse into the stream, intending to swim to the
opposite shore. The raging waters suddenly seized him, and hurried him
away before the eyes of the people. When he was drawn out, far down
the river, he was a corpse.
Boundless lamentations resounded throughout the army; the most
brilliant ornament and sole hope of Christendom was gone; the troops
arrived at Antioch in a state of the deepest dejection. From thence a
number of the pilgrims returned home, scattered and discouraged, and a
pestilence broke out among the rest, which was fatal to the greater
number of them. It seemed, says a chronicler, "as though the members
would not outlive their head." The Emperor's son, Duke Frederick of
Swabia, reached the camp before Ptolemais with five thousand men,
instituted there the Order of the Teutonic Knights--who were destined
hereafter to found a splendid dominion on the distant shores of the
German Ocean--and soon afterward followed his father to the grave.
The highest hopes were soon destroyed by this lamentable downfall. It
seemed as if a stern fate had resolved to give the Christian world a
distant view of the possibility of victory; the great Emperor might
have secured it, but the generation which had not understood him was
doomed to misery and defeat. A second winter, with the same fearful
additions of hunger and sickness, came upon the camp before Ptolemais,
and the measure of misfortune was filled by renewed and bitter
quarrels among the Frankish princes. King Guy was as incompetent as
ever, and so utterly mismanaged the Christian cause that the marquis
Conrad of Montferrat indignantly opposed him. Queen Sibylla, by
marriage with whom Guy had gained possession of the crown, died just
at this juncture. Conrad instantly declared that Sibylla's sister
Eliza was the only rightful heir, and, as he held every step toward
advancement to be laudable, did not for a moment scruple to elope with
her from her husband, to marry her himself, and to lay claim to the
crown.
Amid all this confusion and disaster the eyes of the crusaders turned
with increasing anxiety toward the horizon, to catch a glimpse of the
sails which were to bring to them two fresh leaders, the kings of
France and of England. Their preparations had not been very rapid.
Henry II of England had, even since his oath, got into a new quarrel
with Philip Augustus of France, which only ended with his death, in
1189. His son and successor, Richard, whose zeal had led him to put up
the cross earlier than the rest, instantly began to arrange the
expedition with Philip. In his impetuous manner he exulted in the
prospect of unheard-of triumphs; the government of England was hastily
and insufficiently provided for during the absence of the King; above
all, money was needed in great quantities, and raised by every
expedient, good or bad. When someone remonstrated with the King
concerning these extortions, he exclaimed, "I would sell London
itself, if I could but find a purchaser." He legislated with the same
inconsiderate vehemence as to the discipline and order of his army:
murderers were to be buried alive on land, and at sea to be tied to
the corpses of their victims and thrown into the water; thieves were
to be tarred and feathered; and whoever gambled for money, be he king
or baron, was to be dipped three times in the sea, or flogged naked
before the whole army.
Richard led his army through France, and went on board his splendid
fleet at Marseilles, while Philip sailed from Genoa in hired vessels.
Half way to Sicily, however, Richard got tired of the sea voyage,
landed near Rome, and journeyed with a small retinue through the
Abruzzi and Calabria, already on the lookout for adventures, and often
engaged in bloody quarrels with the peasants of the mountain villages.
When he at last arrived in Sicily his unstable mind suddenly underwent
a total change; a quarrel with the Sicilian King, Tancred, drove the
Holy Sepulchre entirely out of his head. Now fighting, now
negotiating, he stayed nine months at Messina--hated and feared by the
inhabitants, who called him the Lion, the Savage Lion--deaf to the
entreaties of his followers, who were eager to get to Syria, and
heedless and defiant to all Philip Augustus' representations and
demands.
At last the French King, losing patience, sailed without him, and
arrived at Ptolemais in April, 1191. He was received with eager joy,
but did not succeed in at all advancing the siege operations; for so
many of the French pilgrims had preceded him that the army he brought
was but small, and, though an adroit and cunning diplomatist, a tried
and unscrupulous statesman, he lacked the rough soldierly vigor and
bravery on which everything at that moment depended. At length Richard
was again on his road, and again he allowed himself to be turned aside
from his purpose. One of his ships, which bore his betrothed bride,
had stranded on the Cyprian coast, and, in consequence of the
hostility of the king of that island, had been very inhospitably
received. Richard was instantly up in arms, declared war against the
Comnene,[32] and conquered the whole island in a fortnight--an
impromptu conquest, which was of the highest importance to the
Christian party in the East for centuries after.
Still occupied in establishing a military colony of his knights, he
was surprised by a visit from King Guy, of Jerusalem, who wished to
secure the support of the dreaded monarch in his party contests at
home. Guy complained to King Richard of the matrimonial offences of
his rival, informed him that Philip Augustus had declared in favor of
Conrad's claims, and on the spot secured the jealous adherence of the
English monarch. He landed on June 8th at Ptolemais; the Christians
celebrated his arrival by an illumination of the camp: and without a
moment's delay, by his warlike ardor, he roused the whole army out of
the state of apathy into which it had lately fallen. Day after day the
walls of the city were energetically assailed on every side. On July
8th Saladin made his last attempt to raise the siege, by an attack on
the Christian intrenchments; he was driven back with great loss,
whereupon he permitted the besieged to capitulate. The town
surrendered, with all its stores, after a siege of nearly three years'
duration; the heroic defenders still remaining, about three thousand
in number, were to be exchanged within the space of forty days, for
two thousand captive Christians, and a ransom of two hundred thousand
pieces of gold. The war, according to all reports, had by this time
cost the crusaders above thirty thousand men.
Those among the pilgrims who were enthusiastic and devout now hoped
their way would lead straight to the Holy Sepulchre. But it soon
became manifest that the feeling which had prompted the crusades was
dead forever. The news of the fall of Jerusalem had awakened a
momentary excitement in the western nations, but had failed to stir up
the old enthusiasm. On Syrian ground, the ideal faith rapidly gave way
before substantial worldly considerations. Richard, Guy, and the
Pisans, on the one hand; Philip, Conrad, and the Genoese, on the
other, were already in open discord, which was so embittered by
Richard's blustering fury that Philip Augustus embarked at the end of
July for France, declaring upon his oath that he had no evil
intentions toward England, but determined in his heart to let Richard
feel his resentment on the first opportunity.
Meanwhile negotiations had begun between Saladin and Richard, which at
first seemed to promise favorable results for the Christians, but
unfortunately the day fixed for the exchange of the prisoners arrived
before Saladin was able to procure the whole of the promised ransom.
Richard, with the most brutal cruelty, slaughtered two thousand seven
hundred prisoners in one day. Saladin magnanimously refused the
demands of his exasperated followers for reprisals, but of course
there could be no further question of a treaty, and the war
recommenced with renewed fury. Richard led the army on an expedition
against Ascalon, defeated Saladin on his march thither at Arsuf, and
advanced amid incessant skirmishes and single combats, into which he
recklessly plunged as though he had been a simple knight-errant.
Accordingly his progress was so slow that Saladin had destroyed the
town before his arrival and rendered its capture worthless to the
Christians. Again negotiations were begun, but in January, 1192,
Richard suddenly advanced upon Jerusalem, and by forced marches
quickly reached Baitnuba, a village only a few miles distant from the
Holy City. But there the Sultan had thrown up strong and extensive
fortifications, and after long and anxious deliberations, the Franks
returned toward Ascalon.
Meanwhile Conrad of Montferrat had placed himself in communication
with Saladin, proposed to him point-blank an alliance against Richard,
and by his prudent and consistent conduct daily grew in favor with the
Sultan. The Christian camp, on the other hand, was filled with
ever-increasing discord; and the difference between Richard and Conrad
reached such a height that the Marquis went back to Ptolemais, and
regularly besieged the Pisans, who were friendly to the English. Into
such a miserable state of confusion had the great European enterprise
fallen for want of a good leader and an adequate object.
In April news came from England that the King's brother, John, was in
open rebellion against him and in alliance with France; whereupon
Richard, greatly alarmed, informed the barons that he must prepare for
his departure, and that they must definitively choose between Guy and
Conrad as their future ruler. To his great disappointment, the actual
necessities of the case triumphed over all party divisions, and all
voted for Conrad, as the only able and fitting ruler in the country.
Nothing remained for Richard but to accede to their wishes, and as a
last act of favor toward Guy, to bestow upon him the crown of Cyprus.
Conrad did not delay one moment signing the treaty with Saladin, and
the Sultan left the new King in possession of the whole line of coast
taken by the crusaders, and also ceded to him Jerusalem, where,
however, he was to allow a Turkish mosque to exist; the other towns of
the interior were then to be divided between the two sovereigns.
What a conclusion to a war in which the whole world had been engaged,
and had made such incalculable efforts! After the only competent
leader had been snatched from the Christians by an angry fate, the
weakness and desultoriness of the others had destroyed the fruits of
conquest. The host of devout pilgrims had beheld Jerusalem from
Baitnuba, and had then been obliged to turn their backs upon the holy
spot in impotent grief. Suddenly a nameless, bold, and cunning prince
made his appearance in this great war between the two religions in the
world, a man indifferent to religion or morality, who knew no other
motive than selfishness, but who followed that with vigor and
consistency, and had already stretched forth his hand to grasp the
crown of the Holy Sepulchre.
But on the 28th of April Conrad was murdered by two Saracen assassins;
many said, at King Richard's instigation, but more affirmed it was by
the order of the Old Man of the Mountain, the head of a fanatical sect
in Lebanon. Everything was again unsettled by this event. The Syrian
barons instantly elected Count Henry of Champagne as their king; five
days after Conrad's death he married his widow Eliza, and was
perfectly ready to succeed to Conrad's alliance with Saladin, as well
as to his wife. But King Richard, with his usual thoughtlessness,
allowed the scandalous marriage, but prevented the reasonable
diplomatic arrangement. As he had a certain liking for Henry, who was
his nephew, he wished to conquer a few more provinces for him in a
hurry, and to win some fresh laurels for himself at the same time; and
accordingly began the war anew against Saladin. A Turkish fortress was
taken, when more evil tidings arrived from England, and Richard
announced that he could not remain a moment longer. The barons broke
out in a general cry of indignation that he who had plunged them into
danger should forsake them in the midst of it, and once more the
vacillating King allowed himself to be diverted from his purpose.
Again the Christians remained long inactive at Baitnuba, not daring to
attack the city.
The ultimate reason for this delay was illustrative of the state of
things. The leaders knew that the great mass of pilgrims would
disperse as soon as their vows were fulfilled by the deliverance of
the Holy Sepulchre; this would seal the destruction of the Frankish
rule in Syria, should it happen before the treaty of peace with
Saladin was concluded. Thus the ostensible object of the crusade could
not be achieved without ruining Christianity in the East. It is
impossible to give a stronger illustration of the hopelessness and
internal conflict of all their views and endeavors at that time. They
at last turned back disheartened to Ramla, where they were startled by
the news that Saladin had unexpectedly assumed the offensive, attacked
the important seaport town of Jaffa, and was probably already in
possession of it.
Richard's warlike impetuosity once more burst forth. With a handful of
followers he put to sea and hastened to Jaffa. When he came in sight
of the harbor, the Turks were already inside the town, plundering in
every direction, and assailing the last remains of the garrison. After
a short reconnoitre Richard drove his vessel on shore, rushed with an
echoing war-cry into the midst of the enemy's superior force, and by
his mighty blows actually drove the Turks in terror and confusion out
of the place. On the following day he encamped with contemptuous
insolence outside the gates with a few hundred horsemen, when he was
suddenly attacked by as many thousands. In one instant he was armed,
drove back the foremost assailants, clove a Turk's head down to his
shoulders, and then rode along the wavering front of the enemy, from
one wing to the other. "Now," cried he, "who will dare a fight for the
honor of God?" Henceforth his fame was such that, years after, Turkish
mothers threatened their children with "King Richard is coming!" and
Turkish riders asked their shying horses if "they saw the Lion-hearted
King."
But these knightly deeds did not advance the war at all. It was
fortunate for the Franks that Saladin's emirs were weary of the long
strife, and the Sultan himself wished for the termination of
hostilities in consequence of his failing health. The favorable terms
of the former treaty, more especially the possession of Jerusalem,
were of course no longer to be obtained. The Christians were obliged
to be content, on August 30, 1192, with a three-years' armistice,
according to which the sea-coast from Antioch to Joppa was to remain
in the possession of the Christians, and the Franks obtained
permission to go to Jerusalem as unarmed pilgrims, to pray at the Holy
Sepulchre. Richard embarked directly, without even taking measures for
ransoming the prisoners.
As may easily be imagined, the Christians were deeply exasperated by
such a peace; the Turks rejoiced, and only Saladin looked forward with
anxiety to the future, and feared dangerous consequences from the
duration of even the smallest Christian dominion in the East. The most
active and friendly intercourse, rarely disturbed by suspicion, soon
began between the two nations. On the very scene of the struggle
mutual hatred had subsided, commercial relations were formed, and
political negotiations soon followed. In the place of the mystic
trophy which was the object of the religious war, Europe had gained an
immense extension of worldly knowledge and of wealth from the struggle
of a hundred years.
THE TEUTONIC KNIGHTS
THEIR ORGANIZATION AND HISTORY
A.D. 1190-1809
F.C. WOODHOUSE
Scarcely less renowned than the Knights Templars, the
Teutonic Knights carried the spirit and traditions of the
great military religious orders of the Middle Ages far into
the modern period. No earlier date for the foundation of the
order than 1190 is given on recognized authority, its actual
beginning, like that of the other orders of its kind, being
humble and obscure.
It appears that about 1128 a wealthy German, having
participated in the siege and capture of Jerusalem, settled
there, and soon began to show pity for his unfortunate
countrymen among the pilgrims who came, receiving some of
them into his own house to be cared for. When the work
became too great for him there, he built a hospital, in
which he devoted himself to nursing sick pilgrims, to whose
support he likewise gave all his wealth. Still the task
outgrew the means at his command, and in order to increase
his charity he began to solicit alms. While he took care of
the men, his wife performed a like service for poor women
pilgrims.
Soon they were joined by many of their wealthier countrymen
who had come to fight for the Holy Land. Presently they
"banded themselves together, after the pattern of the Order
of St. John of Jerusalem, and united the care of the sick
and poor with the profession of arms in their defence, under
the title of Hospitalers of the Blessed Virgin." These
Teutonic Hospitalers continued their work, in hospital and
field, until the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin in 1187,
and the conqueror, in recognition of their benevolent
services, consented that some of them should remain there
and continue their work. Out of these lowly beginnings grew
one of the most powerful and widespread of the military
religious orders.
It was during the siege of Acre, 1189-1191, that the Teutonic Order
received its final and complete organization as one of the great
military religious orders of Europe. The German soldiers suffered
great miseries from sickness and from their wounds, and as their
language was not understood by the French and other European
contingents of the crusading army, they were left untended and
friendless. To meet this want, some citizens of Bremen and Lubeck
provided a sort of field hospital, and devoted themselves to the care
of their wounded and sick countrymen. These were soon joined by
others, and by the brethren of the Hospital of the Blessed Virgin at
Jerusalem, whom Saladin had banished from the city, and the little
body came to be known by the designation of the Teutonic Knights of
the Hospital of the Blessed Virgin at Jerusalem.
It is said that the order owed its constitution to Frederick, Duke of
Swabia; but there is much obscurity, and little authentic record to
determine this or to furnish particulars of the transaction.
The order seems, however, to have been confirmed by Pope Celestine
III, the constitution and rules of the Templars and Hospitalers being
taken as the model for the new order, Henry de Walpot being the first
master. This appears to have happened about 1190, though some
authorities maintain that it was not till 1191 or even later. While,
therefore, the three great orders had much in common, there was this
difference in their original foundation. The Hospitalers were at first
a nursing order, and gradually became military; the Templars were
always purely and solely military; while the Teutonic Knights were
from the first both military and nursing.
Contemporary chroniclers compare the Teutonic Knights with the mystic
living creature seen by Ezekiel, having the faces of a man and of a
lion, the former indicating the charity with which they tended the
sick; the latter, the courage and daring with which they met and
fought the enemies of Christ.
The Teutonic Knights continued their care of the sick soldiers till
Acre was taken in July, 1191, by the united forces of Philip Augustus,
King of France, and Richard Coeur de Lion, King of England. After the
capture of Acre by the Christian army, Henry de Walpot purchased a
site within the city, and built a church and hospital for his order,
the first that it possessed. To these buildings were gradually added
lodgings for the members of the order, for pilgrims, and for the
soldiers which were enlisted to assist the knights in the field.
All this cost a large sum of money; but, as many wealthy Germans had
enrolled themselves as knights, means were not wanting as the occasion
for them occurred and the requirements of the order developed. Among
the greatest of the earlier benefactors was Frederick, Duke of Swabia,
who contributed money and aided the progress of the order by his
influence, and, when he died at Acre, was interred in the church of
the knights. Contemporary writers speak in the highest terms of his
virtues, saying that he lived a hero and died a saint.
At this period and for the rest of its history, the constitution of
the Teutonic order embraced two classes of members--the knights and
the clergy--both being exclusively of German birth. The knights were
required to be of noble family, and, besides the ordinary threefold
monastic vows, took a fourth vow, that they would devote themselves to
the care of the sick and to fight the enemies of the faith. Their
dress was black, over which a white cloak with a black cross upon the
left shoulder was worn. The clergy were not necessarily of noble
birth, their duties being to minister to the order in their churches,
to the sick in the hospitals and on the field of battle.
To these two classes, who constituted the order, were added serving
brethren, called _Heimlike_ and _Soldner_, and in Latin, _Familiares_.
Many of these gave their services gratuitously from religious motives;
others received payment and were really servants. The knights selected
their esquires from among the serving brothers. All these wore a dress
of the same color as the knights, that they might be known at once to
belong to the order.
The original rules of the order were very severe. All the members
lived in common; they slept in dormitories on small and hard beds;
they took their meals together in the refectory, and their fare was
meagre and of the plainest quality. They were required to attend the
daily services in the church, and to recite certain prayers and
offices privately. They were not permitted to leave their convent, nor
to write or receive letters, without permission of their superior.
Their clothes, armor, and the harness of their horses were all of the
plainest description; all gold, jewels, and other costly ornaments
being strictly forbidden. Arms of the best temper and horses of good
breed were provided. When they marched to battle, each knight had
three or four horses, and an esquire carried his shield and lance.
The grand master was elected from the class of the knights only. Next
in rank to him was the preceptor, or grand commander, who had the
general supervision of the clergy and serving brethren, and who
presided in chapter in the absence of the grand master. Next to the
preceptor came the marshal, who acted as lieutenant-general in the
field of battle under the grand master. The third dignitary was the
grand hospitaler, who had the superintendence of the hospitals and of
all that related to their management. The fourth officer was the
trappier, who supplied the knights with their clothing and
accoutrements. And, lastly, there was the treasurer, who received and
paid all the money that passed through the hands of the order. All
these officers were removable, and were commonly changed every year.